The Love Below
by Kyoko Kasshu Minamino
Summary: Terry kidnaps Max to spend Christmas with his family. Max is less than enthused, to say the least. But maybe the holiday season will yield something sweeter than candy canes and egg nog. Terry/Max.
1. Chapter 1

**The Love Below**

**A/N:** I do not own Batman Beyond. I do own Outkast's album "The Love Below" but it's just a copy. Either way, happy holidays and enjoy the story!

* * *

He always called her at the most inconvenient times.

"What's your plans for the holidays?"

Max shrugged and then remembered that they were on the phone and he couldn't see her.

"I don't have any."

"What do you mean 'you don't have any'?"

"Mom pulled the Christmas shift. She'll be gone Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. My sister's going to her boyfriend's house to spend the holiday with his family."

"Why don't you go with her?"

Max winced. "I don't like the look of a third wheel on me. It's not very flattering."

"What? So you're just gonna sit around the house in your underwear drinking spiked eggnog?" Terry's voice was so indignant that she had to laugh.

"What if I do?"

"Well, not that I mind the mental image, but why don't you come over and spend it with us?"

She froze, honestly surprised. Terry had the most annoying habit of catching her off-guard sometimes. "No, Ter, I couldn't. It's your family, not mine."

"Tch, since when? My mom says she sees more of you these days than me." A touch of bitterness crept into his voice that she wanted to comment on but he pushed past it.

"Besides, I can't let you be alone for Christmas. It's unheard of."

"Bruce does it all the time—"

"Bruce _tries_ to do it all the time but last Christmas he had a visitor who took him out for a 'drive' so he wasn't alone."

Max's pulse skyrocketed at this news. She knew almost nothing about Bruce's personal life other than old news feeds from the 1990's. "Who?"

"Come to our Christmas dinner and I'll tell you."

She groaned, flopping onto her back on the bed. "You sadist."

Terry chuckled good-naturedly. "Come on, you know you wanna."

"Terry, I haven't had a real Christmas since I was ten years old. I would just get in the way."

"You won't. I'll pick you up Thursday at 7AM so we can go pick out a Christmas tree."

"7AM? Are you kidding me?"

"Bye, Max." His cheerful voice left the phone and she was stuck yelling at a dial tone instead. She hung up and palmed her face, wondering why she hadn't refused him more fervently. Then again, it wouldn't have helped. When Terry had his mind set on something, he'd get it. And she'd be kicking and screaming the whole way down.

* * *

Her doorbell rang at exactly 7:00AM and she couldn't have been any madder. Terry was always late for everything—picking up Dana for a date, taking her cat to the vet when she had to work late at the computer lab, hell even for his own doctor's appointments—but he chose today to be on time. She stomped to the front door in her pajamas and opened the door, glaring right up at his grinning face.

"I. Am not. Going." She snarled. His grin widened.

"Yes, you are."

"Says who?"

"Says me. If you aren't dressed in five minutes, I'm going to get Matt out of the car and we're going to sing Christmas carols outside of your door until the police come and get us. Loudly. In Spanish."

The blood ran out of her face. She'd heard Terry sing before. It disrupted every dog in neighboring apartments. She slammed the door and raced to the closet, throwing on a pair of jeans, a blue sweater, boots, a heavy coat, ran a comb through her flaming pink hair, nabbed her purse, and opened the door. He had the nerve to look slightly offended.

"Oh, come on. My singing's not _that_ bad."

Max spared him a sarcastic look as she locked the door behind them. "The last time you sang, my landlady told me she thought my cat was passing a kidney stone."

Terry stuffed his hands in his pockets, pouting. "No one can hit that high note in 'Memory Lane', dammit."

A smirk crept onto her lips before she could stop it. "Then maybe you shouldn't keep attempting it every time you get drunk."

A faint blush crowded his cheeks just as they stepped outside and Max could already feel her spirits lifting despite the frigid wind. December always blew a huge pile of snow throughout Gotham. Ice and sludge crunched underfoot as they walked towards the car crookedly parallel-parked out front with Matt in the backseat, drawing smiley faces in the frosted window. A bright smile lit up his face when he spotted Max and he waved. She couldn't help smiling back. Cute kid.

Terry opened the passenger door for her and then went around to the driver's side, getting in. Matt instantly started in on him.

"What took you so long? It's freezing in here." The eight year old complained. Terry rolled his eyes, revving the engine.

"I was gone for like three minutes, Twip. Lose the attitude or I'll leave you here."

"Yeah, right. Mom would ground you forever."

"Go play in traffic."

"Children," Max said mildly, suppressing a giggle. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Yes, ma'am." Terry replied with a slight sneer, checking his mirrors before pulling onto the main road. Max settled into her seat, grateful as the warm air wafted in from the air conditioning.

"So where are we heading? Wal-mart? Big Bob's Christmas Tree Emporium?"

Terry shook his head. "Nope. Someplace better."

Her eyebrows rose in interest. "Wait, are you talking about getting a real pine tree?"

"Yup."

She stared at him. "You do realize we'll be the only three people doing that in all of Gotham, right?"

"We've gotta have a real one. It's not the same thing to have those little plastic things."

She sighed. "If you say so. But you should know there aren't that many place to buy one."

He flashed her a grin. "We're not buying one."

"…are we gonna shoplift one?"

"Ooh, let's do that!" Matt chimed in from the backseat. Terry tossed a dirty glare at him in the rearview mirror.

"No, we're not. You'll see."

To her bewilderment, they drove past downtown Gotham and almost out of the city limits entirely. She was wondering if they were taking some sort of road trip but then she realized there was only one thing this far out of the way that had trees.

Wayne Manor.

"Bruce lets you chop down trees on his property?" Max asked, her voice hushed in shock. Terry nodded, driving through the already open gate.

"It was his suggestion."

"Really?"

Terry smiled. "Yeah. Every year, Alfred would take Bruce and the boys out to get a tree from the yard and decorate it together. I thought that was a pretty schway idea for us."

Max glanced up at the snow-frosted mansion, wondering if she ever would understand the man living inside it. When she met him, he had seemed so cold and calculating. Who knew there was a heart beneath that frigid exterior?

"And the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Terry parked the car and they all hopped out, heading to the trunk to gather the equipment: a large double-handled saw, a huge sled that had been crammed in there only by the grace of God, twine to tie the tree on top, and small axe for chopping off wayward branches. Matt insisted upon tugging the sled himself and Terry wouldn't let her handle the sharp stuff since, quote, "You're already mad at me, I don't need you armed", so they started up the rolling, snow-covered hills in search of the right tree. Strangely enough, Max couldn't recall the last time she had been in a forest, or anywhere out in the open air. Before school let out, she had watched other students run around pelting each other with snowballs but she never joined in. It seemed sort of juvenile for high school.

"Alright, Matt, see anything good?" Terry asked. The small boy put one gloved hand over his eyes to block out the sun, which Max noted as obscenely cute, and pointed to one in the distance.

"That one looks pretty good."

"Matt, that's a telephone pole."

"…I knew that."

Max suppressed another giggle. "Here, why don't I pull the sled and you can get up on Terry's shoulders so you can see better?"

"Sweet!" The kid dropped the sled and scurried over to his brother, who shook his head but stooped enough for his brother to climb onto his back. Max took the reins and pulled the sled, watching with amusement as Matt continued searching for the mythical perfect tree but only succeeded in engaging in more argumentative moments with his older brother.

"What about that one?"

"Too thick."

"That one?"

"Too skinny."

"That one?"

"Too tall."

"That one?"

"That's the same tree, Matt."

"That one?"

"I think it has a bear in it, let's go this way."

"Well, fine! Why don't you just pick a tree?" The eight year old groused, crossing his arms. Max shook her head, coming to a stop beside a modest looking tree that was only about six feet tall.

"Alright, boys, what about this one?"

Terry turned, giving it a glancing over and smiling. "Do you ever stop being perfect?"

She rolled her eyes. "Flattery gets you nowhere, McGinnis."

He lifted Matt off his shoulders and set him down, flashing her a grin before lifting his saw. "I beg to differ. Here, grab this side. Hold it level and move slow. Matt, line up the sled on this side of the tree and step back. Ready?"

"Ready."

Sawing off the trunk wasn't as hard as Max thought it would be, though it did involve way more strain on her lower back. At the appropriate moment, Matt of course yelled "Timber!" as the tree toppled over onto the sled, spraying them all with snow and pine needles. Afterward, they tied it down securely to the sled and Matt hopped aboard as she and Terry pulled it back to the car for loading.

Moments later, they were safely back in the car and heading for the McGinnis household after stopping by the town's only Krispy Kreme for a box of Christmas-themed doughnuts and coffee (or hot chocolate, in Matt's case). Unloading the tree took effort, patience, and soundly boxing Terry and Matt about the ears for arguing, but they managed to haul the tree into the den where a stand had already been placed.

Max flopped on the couch, tossing her gloves on the coffee table and stretching her back. Terry plopped down next to her, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Does it go that smoothly every year?" She questioned, unzipping her coat. Terry smirked.

"Pretty much."

"Does your Mom ever get to go?"

"Sometimes. This is only the second time we've used one of the trees from Bruce's yard. When Dad was still here, we'd go outside of Gotham and get two trees: one for this house and one for his."

Max's eyes softened on him. "Oh."

He shook his head. "Don't look at me like that."

"Sorry. I just…I know it's a little hard to think about family this time of year." She said, her voice low, gaze aimed at the floor. Terry sat up, his expression sobering.

"That's why we do it. It never gets any easier but it helps to remember."

She opened her mouth to say more but Matt appeared, whining about Terry getting the decorations out of the garage for him. They rented an apartment but each one had its own small garage on the left-hand side. Terry heaved a sigh and beckoned Max to help him carry boxes. She actually didn't mind the manual labor, mostly because she would be getting a peek into the McGinnis family's personal belongings. She had spent a couple dinners with them before but she didn't know much about Terry's home life.

Back when they still celebrated Christmas, Max's family had the standard decorations: bulbs, garland, lights, and an angel on the top of the tree. She would never admit it out loud but she missed racing around the tree with her small fists full of silver or gold garland as her mother and father watched on with amusement and her sister tried to finish her side of the tree in the meantime.

The McGinnis family decorations were a little different. They had many of the same things as her family—the glass bulbs, lights, and garland—but they also had velvet ribbons, homemade porcelain ornaments, candy canes, and miniature wreaths. The bickering between Terry and his brother soon fell away as she began unpacking a box full of homemade decorations. Some of them were photos attached to the fat bellies of ceramic Santas or stars made of craft sticks and felt. She found herself grinning at the pictures of Terry at the age of six with an oversized Santa hat and a half-eaten Gingerbread man clutched in one chubby fist. Part of her had always envied Terry's tiny family. It may have been a little damaged, but she could always tell their love was still intact.

"Looking for blackmail?" She jumped as Terry's voice came from right behind her. Being Batman gave him the endlessly annoying ability to sneak up on her. She set the last decoration down on the now crowded coffee table, tossing a challenging smirk over her shoulder at him.

"What if I am?"

He shook his head. "I've already burned all the ones of me in the bathtub so these will have to do."

She rolled her eyes, tugging the Christmas lights box closer and crossing her legs.

"Believe me, I have better things to do with my time."

"I'll bet you do." To her surprise, he took a seat directly behind her, sandwiched between her body and the couch, long legs splayed out on either side of hers. Automatically, her pulse raced in surprise of the sudden body contact.

"What are you—"

"Just hand it to me when you get the tangles out and I'll wrap it up."

She eyed him but he gave her nothing but that enigmatic smile of his, ice blue eyes full to the brim with humor, just daring her to protest. Max decided not to give him the satisfaction and instead began concentrating on untangling the Christmas lights rather than the hard contours of his well-muscled chest against her spine.

To fill the silence that made her more and more uncomfortable by the second, she turned on the television and was thrilled to find that one of the classic Christmas films was on. Terry didn't exactly have the same reaction.

"…what the hell is a Grinch?"

Max's mouth dropped open. "How have you never seen _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_?"

He shrugged. "We never really watched TV on Christmas."

"That is unacceptable. You have to see this movie." She asserted, turning up the volume and calling Matt into the room from where he'd been sneaking doughnuts in the kitchen. To her dismay, he too had never heard of the Dr. Seuss cartoon. Soon, the air was filled with whimsical songs and Max found herself sucked into the movie just like she was every year. It wasn't until the end of the film that any of them spoke again.

"Well, now I know what to call Bruce during the holiday season," Terry mused. Max stifled a laugh.

"That's an understatement."

He shifted a bit and that was when Max realized they had finished untangling the lights sometime during the movie and she was leaning back against him as if he were a human chair. She hadn't noticed and he hadn't complained about it. And in typical McGinnis style, he decided to poke fun at her the moment she became embarrassed.

"Comfy?" He said with a sly grin. Max rolled her eyes.

"Way too comfortable. Maybe you should do some more sit ups, Captain Squishy." She gave his stomach an enthusiastic poke and he frowned. Of course, he had a perfect set of washboard abs, as Max pretended not to notice, but his ego was very easily bruised.

"Hey, when's the last time you've been to a gym?" He challenged, pinching her left thigh with emphasis. Max bristled, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"I do cardio at home, thank you very much."

Terry opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted when Matt groaned loudly. "Get a room. You guys are gross."

Both teenagers glared at the boy, who then jumped off the couch to go back in his room and play video games. Max moodily pushed the empty box aside with her foot, starting to stand up.

"Remind me to kill him later."

"Will do."

"So what's next on the agenda?" She asked, dusting off the back of her jeans. Terry stood as well, pausing to toss her a coy smirk.

"We could always get that room he was talking about."

She gave him a dirty look and he merely chuckled. "Mom gets home tonight around five o'clock so we need to pick up her Christmas presents."

Max arched an eyebrow. "You really want to take the Twip shopping with us the day before Christmas Eve?"

He had enough sense to look sheepish. "He insists. He won't let me pick out a present for him no matter what I say. I'll go take a shower and then we can head out."

"Good point. I could use one too, but I don't have anything to change into."

Terry thought about it for a moment and then nodded for her to follow him. "Hold on, I might have something."

She fought the urge to give him another suspicious look but trailed him to his room. She stood in the doorway and watched with amusement as he rooted through his dresser, tossing boxers and t-shirts here and there until he came away with something in her size. To her surprise, it was actually one of her favorites: a long-sleeved black shirt with the Tasmanian devil on the front.

"I've been looking everywhere for this." She said, smiling faintly as he handed it to her.

"You left it a few months ago when we were pulling an all-nighter for midterms."

"How'd you know it was in there?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "It's right next to where I hide the con—uh, cookies."

She arched an eyebrow at his last minute word change. "I'm not an eight year old. You're a big boy, even you have needs."

He gave her a slow smile that made the room feel woefully small to her. "That is probably the most exploitable thing you have ever said to me."

Max gave him a challenging smirk. "Well? Do your worst."

She probably shouldn't have said that but something about him brought out her playful side, even when she knew better. He walked towards her and placed one hand on the doorjamb, leaning down to her height with that same heated smile in place. His lips parted and she had to fight the urge to glance at them.

"Go take your shower, little girl."

Max grinned and walked down the hall with an extra sway in her hips, knowing that he would notice and not giving a damn.

* * *

**A/N:** This is indeed a multi-chapter story (insert dramatic gasp here) and the second chapter will be posted immediately after this one. Make sure you leave a review for both. I haven't attempted a multiple chapter fic in some time so I need encouragement. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"Terry, we have to stop! We lost Matt!"

"We're going on without him! It's kill or be killed!" Max shook her head and scooped Matt McGinnis under one arm, ignoring the boy's indignant cries, and wriggled her way through the many people crowding the department store until she reached where Terry stood. The dark-haired teen dusted off his jacket, made sure his wallet was still in place, and regarded them with raised eyebrows.

"What? Is this your first time out on Christmas Eve Eve?"

"Yes," She glared, setting Matt down. "Most people have enough sense to get their presents earlier, McGinnis."

He shrugged, turning to the Customer Service counter. Max cast a curious look at him as he flagged down one of the many cashiers scurrying around.

"Hey, is Krystal here?"

"Yeah, I'll go get her." The associate answered, leaving. Max arched an eyebrow.

"Who's that?"

Terry cleared his throat, not looking at her. "Nobody."

Moments later, a willowy redhead with thick-rimmed glasses appeared, beaming when she spotted Terry. "H-Hi, Terry."

He flashed her a smile that could melt butter. "Hey, how's it going?"

Krystal blushed, twirling a finger in her ponytail. "Crazy. It's the day before Christmas Eve, after all."

"Yeah. Would you still happen to have the presents I had on layaway?"

She nodded too many times. "I'll, um, go get it from the back room. Be right back."

The redhead disappeared. Terry found himself on the end of a very deliberate death glare from Max. He gave her wide innocent eyes.

"…what?"

"Terry, they don't HAVE layaway in this store."

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "I know."

Max massaged the bridge of her nose. "I cannot believe you are using this girl to save presents for you. That's low even for you."

"Oh, c'mon. What was I supposed to do? With all the late hours, I didn't have time to do anything else!" He protested. Max crossed her arms beneath her chest.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you have a _girlfriend_ who wouldn't appreciate all this shameless flirting," she accused. Terry's face became rather guarded after a moment.

"Don't be too sure about that."

Surprised, Max opened her mouth to reply but Krystal returned with an armful of clothes.

"Here you go."

In an instant, his charming smile returned. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

Krystal's cheeks turned so red that her freckles stood out. "N-No problem."

He tossed her a wink and headed towards the monstrous line of people at the front. Once more, Max tried to ask him what he'd meant but he switched subjects on her.

"Here, take this list with you and head for the jewelry store. I'll catch up with you guys."

Max chewed on the inside of her lip to keep from arguing with him. "Fine. Call me when you're on the way."

Taking Matt's hand, she led him out of the store. Once they were back in the atrium of the mall, the boy let go, blinking up at Max with his large brown eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Max blinked. "Hm? Oh, nothing. Here, I don't know the mall too well. Why don't you navigate?"

"Sure!" She handed him the list and he started reading it, glancing around for the overhanging signs to stores. With his attention distracted, Max could think more clearly about Terry's strange behavior. The last she heard, he and Dana were still together. Sure, they were sort of unstable but that was normal for them considering Dana knew nothing about his nightly activities. She had tried her best to implore the girl to be patient with him. If she knew how valiant and determined Terry really was, maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to get mad at him. Then again, Dana wasn't exactly the patient type.

"Hey, Max! It's this way!" Matt called, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. She nodded, turning to head towards him when she happened to bump into a guy.

"Sorry about that," she apologized, smiling. Then something else caught her attention. She knew this guy: Daniel, she remembered. He went to Hamilton High and he was on the basketball team. But that wasn't what bothered her: it was the fact that he was walking arm-in-arm with Dana.

"Max?" Dana said, startled by her appearance. Max stared at her, unsure of how to react.

"Dana. Hi. Um, what are you guys doing here?"

"I had to return a gift for my Dad. It turns out it wasn't the right size," Dana replied with an uneasy laugh, slipping her arm away from Daniel for a moment. Max spared Daniel another false smile and tugged the Asian girl aside.

"What's with the stiff?" she hissed, checking the crowd to make sure Terry wouldn't come waltzing up. Dana frowned at her in confusion.

"What do you mean? You know Daniel, he's in our Physics class."

"No, not that. What are you doing here with him by yourself?"

"We're on a date, Max."

Max went still. "You mean you and Terry—"

"Max, we broke up last Friday. Didn't he tell you?" Dana's face clouded with worry when she noticed how upset the news seemed to make her. Quickly, Max covered her expression with a weak smile.

"It…must have slipped his mind, I guess. Don't worry about it. Have fun on your date. I'll see you at the New Year's party."

"Okay. Merry early Christmas!" Dana squeezed her friend's arm affectionately and walked away, rejoining Daniel in the crowd. Max watched them go with a sullen expression, worried for more reasons than she could count. Matt had gotten impatient and came over, tugging on her jacket sleeve.

"C'mon, or Mom's present's gonna be gone before we get there."

"Right. Sorry."

It was going to be a long drive back to the house.

* * *

Max had been right. The car ride home was rather tense, or at least it felt that way on her end. Terry didn't talk much either. He had always been good at reading her moods and her body language—furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, arms crossed beneath her chest, legs crossed—spoke volumes. When she was in a bad mood, people knew it. Terry was no exception.

When they got home, Matt happily took off with the presents to go hide them in odd places in his room. Max stood in the den, unsure of where to go from there. She opened her mouth to speak but Terry beat her to the punch.

"I've got to make lunch for the Twip."

She nodded wordlessly, heading to his room to wait. Once inside, Max tossed her jacket on the bed and wandered about, feeling too tense to merely sit on the bed. She hadn't been in his room in a while so some things were different. For one, she could actually see the carpet. It was usually covered in jeans and t-shirts. Either he had learned how to clean or his mother did it for him. Mary McGinnis had given up the hopeless plight of getting Terry to clean his room on a regular basis. But the simple fact that it was semi-clean meant he'd made an effort since he knew she was coming over. Max found it oddly pathetic and flattering at the same time.

The lack of clothing everywhere meant that she could see his nightstand where she noticed the all-purpose morning device she'd bought him sat. It was an alarm clock, an mp3 player, and a lamp all in one. She switched it on and went over to the bookshelf to search for something to read. Soft music floated over to her that made her pause for a minute in flipping through Terry's favorite book (Beowulf).

_"I hope that you're the one_

_If not, you are the prototype_

_We'll tiptoe to the sun_

_And do things I know ya like_

_I think I'm in love again…"_

The song was practically ancient: circa 2003, and R&B no less. She had told Terry months ago to actually listen to the album but the boy was absent-minded as all get out so she never expected to find out that he did. Still, standing up made her feet hurt worse so she flopped down the bed, kicking off her shoes and flipping open the ancient epic poem. The gentle lyrics eventually made her relax and before she knew it, she had dozed off for a little while and only awakened when the door closed, indicating Terry's arrival.

"You look comfortable," he mused, nodding to the book lying open on her chest. Max rolled her eyes, tossing it aside on his nightstand.

"You did get me up at seven o'clock in the morning, y'know."

He shed his jacket, flashing her a smirk. "Did I mess up your beauty sleep?"

Max stuck out her tongue. "As a matter of fact, you did. Besides, my feet hurt from all that standing in line. That's why I order all my presents online."

"Ah, it can't be that bad." Terry took a seat on the bed and tugged one of her socked feet into his lap. Max's dark eyebrows shot up so far they almost disappeared beneath her magenta hair as he began massaging the pad of her right foot with his strong fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing the problem." He answered without looking up. She watched him for a long moment, trying to ignore the fact that he was actually pretty good at it.

"You're trying to get back on my good side, aren't you?"

He cast a sidelong glance at her with a sheepish smile. "Maybe."

Max closed her eyes, sighing. "I heard what happened with Dana."

His hands stopped for a moment. "Oh. When?"

"In the mall. I saw her with a guy."

Terry's blue eyes narrowed. "Who?"

Max rolled her eyes, her voice mild. "I'm not going to tell you in case you get the urge to hang him from a skyscraper by his underwear."

Terry scowled but reverted his attention to her foot, grumbling mutinously. "I'm not that immature."

"That's beside the point." Her voice softened for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You would have found out anyway."

Max shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Why did _you_ tell me?"

Silence fell between them for a long moment, accented only by the R&B thrumming in the background until Terry finally spoke.

"I didn't want you to think I was lonely or something."

Max's brown eyes widened, but he continued. "I wanted you to spend Christmas with us because you wanted to, not because I needed you or something. I didn't want you to feel like you were obligated to be here with us. With me."

She didn't know what to say at first. Strangely enough, the music seemed to accent the moment, making it that much harder for her to find the words to reply.

_"She lives in my lap_  
_She lives in my lap_  
_She lives in my lap_  
_She lives in my lap_  
_Oh, she lives in my lap_  
_Forever my fiancé_  
_She lives in my lap_  
_Don't leave, don't stay_  
_She lives in my lap_  
_I'll get the courage one day_

_Make me want you,_  
_Make me miss you_  
_Make me wonder where you are,_  
_Then forget you_  
_Girl, remind me,_  
_Just who we are_  
_We're oh so close,_  
_But yet so far…"_

"Ter…you didn't need to do that. You know I actually like spending time with you and your family," Max offered, sitting up enough to see his face, though his was still guarded. He offered her a small smile.

"Even waking up at seven in the morning to get a tree?"

She mirrored the smile. "Even that. It's very sweet of you."

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, meeting his eyes with an amused look in her own. "I guess we'll be alone together for the holidays."

"Guess so."

It was then that she noticed two things: one, his hand had come to rest on the side of her knee, a firm but comforting weight that he probably hadn't even noticed, and two, that their faces were far too close together and that was a bad thing considering they were both feeling vulnerable, they were both sharing body contact, and there was an incredibly smooth, romantic song playing in the background. The room felt smaller and smaller for every second that ticked by as she sat there, staring into his handsome face and wondering if he felt that same tension in the air between them. Was it her imagination or was he leaning towards her? His lips parted and he whispered her name in a tone that made hot shivers crawl up her spine.

"Max, I—"

"Terry?" The door opened not a moment later to reveal Mary McGinnis. In an instant, the moment shattered.

"Oh, Max! Hi, dear. I didn't know you were here," Mary said, smiling pleasantly at the suddenly embarrassed teen before her. Max quickly slid out of Terry's grasp to give his mother a brief hug, both relieved and disappointed by her presence.

"How's it going, Ms. M?"

"Oh, it's going. I've got a Christmas dinner to get started on. Matt said you'd be joining us?"

Max nodded in agreement and Mary smiled wider. "That's great! You can help me in the kitchen! Terry, honey, could you help Matt set up the tree? He's having trouble reaching the higher branches."

Mary beckoned Max to the kitchen while Terry obediently went into the den to help his younger brother. It was probably for the best, Max thought.

Probably.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope things aren't moving too slowly. But be patient. There's plenty more story where this came from, but it doesn't hurt to light a fire under my butt by reviewing. Happy holidays and thanks for reading!

By the way, the two songs used are not mine: they are "Prototype" and "She Lives in My Lap" by Outkast from their album "The Love Below". I couldn't help inserting a little awesome music in here, though I hope _Neonails_ doesn't think I'm stealing her schtick. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Max had to admit she was taken aback standing in the kitchen next to the mother of her best friend as the spry redhead tied a short white apron around her waist and began withdrawing items from the cabinets, her movements so sure and measured that the pink-haired girl knew this had to be a tradition. Her mind wanted desperately to revisit the intense weirdness that had transpired between her and Terry only moments ago but she forced herself to concentrate, instead wiping her damp palms against the leg of her jeans and clearing her throat.

"So what are we making, Ms. M?"

"Oh, nothing too strenuous," the older woman commented with a smile. "Since it's only going to be the four of us, we'll just cover the basics, starting with the pies."

Max blinked. She hadn't really known Mary McGinnis to be much of a cook. She was at work almost as much as Terry since she was now a widow trying to support two growing boys. "What kind of pies?"

"One is apple for Terry and the other is cherry for Matt. They can never agree on anything."

Max snorted softly, tying an apron around her slender waist. "Got that right."

Mary giggled, placing a large mixing bowl on the counter. "I hope they didn't give you too much trouble today."

Max waved the comment away. "Nope. I'm used to them by now."

"That's a relief. Here you are, slice these for me." Max's knees almost buckled as she handed her a large plastic bag full of fresh green apples.

"All of them?"

"No. Just pick out the greenest ones and slice maybe four or five of them. I'll get started on the dough." She simpered, laying out the flour, eggs, and butter. Max brought the apples to the sink and rinsed the best ones off, finding a knife and a cutting board before taking a seat at the round kitchen table. It took her a moment to get the hang of peeling the apple. At first, she gouged big, clumps out of it before figuring out how to hold the apple and turn it. By the second apple, the peel curled off in a spiral and onto the table. She had to resist the urge to lick her fingers as the tangy juice seeped onto her skin.

"Why are we getting started so early?"

"Well, it's nice to get things done while I have free time. Besides, I wanted the pie done in case Terry gets called in to work on Christmas Eve." Max noticed the older woman's voice faltering slightly with an undertone of worry. It was hard to hear.

"He probably won't."

"I know, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared." Mary said gently, keeping her eyes focused on making the dough. Max turned her gaze back on the apple as she felt guilt creeping up through her stomach. She had never been around to see the results of Terry's frequent absences. Sure, he missed some days of school and a couple of study groups but she hadn't thought much about how it affected his mother. If she knew even a fraction of what Terry went through on a nightly basis, Mary McGinnis would probably take that rolling pin to the side of Bruce Wayne's head. A grim smile touched Max's lips at the mental image. Hell, she could probably take him.

Max opened her mouth to say something but Mary beat her to the punch. "So how is school going these days? Do you know where you want to go for college?"

"Not sure. I've gotten in plenty of places: Dartmouth, Harvard, Yale…and if I want to stay local I could go to Gotham Tech. I guess it depends on how a few things work out." Max admitted, coring the next apple.

"What sorts of things?"

The teenager shrugged. "My Mom doesn't really have someone to hold down the fort while she travels. Leaving the state would make it harder for her since Melissa's not home all the time."

"I know what you mean. Terry seems to be struggling with what he wants to do after high school," Mary replied, reaching for the pan she had placed on the stove. Max blinked.

"Really? Why's that?"

"He worries about Mattie and I being here on our own. I've tried to tell him before that we'll be fine but the boy has a remarkably hard head."

Max bit her bottom lip to hold in a giggle. Mary certainly knew her son. "I can't blame him. This town's pretty rough."

"True, but with Batman out there, our streets aren't as bad as they used to be."

Max's pulse doubled. "Think so?"

"Oh, certainly. I grew up in this town. I was a little girl when the original Batman was still around. The city went to the dogs after he went missing for all those years. Things are much better than they were. I don't agree with all of his methods but he does seem to be doing some good around here." After a moment, the older woman paused and flashed the younger girl an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, this probably sounds silly coming from me."

Max smiled brilliantly. "Not at all, Ms. M."

"Alright, why don't you put those apples in this bowl for me and get started on the filling? Melt this butter in the pan and juice one lemon." Max nodded and brought the sliced apples to the white ceramic bowl on the other side of the stove. Around the corner, she could hear Matt and Terry arguing yet again and shook her head.

"Do those two ever stop?"

"Yes," Mary said before turning on the mixer. "When they're asleep."

Just as Max finished juicing the lemon, the boys appeared to report that they had successful gotten the first decorations up.

"Ooh, is there anything sweet for me to lick yet?" Matt asked, bouncing on his heels to see into Max's bowl. Terry opened his mouth and Max kicked him in the shin with a warning glare. He dutifully kept whatever inappropriate comment he had to himself.

"No, but you can have an apple slice if you want." The pink-haired girl answered with a smile. Matt shrugged and took the offered fruit, wandering back to the den. Terry smirked, his pale eyes roving over her form.

"I like this look on you, Max. Very domestic."

She rolled her eyes. "Take a picture because it's never happening again."

Mary turned off the mixer and placed the lump of dough in yet another bowl to refrigerate. "Oh, don't be so modest. You seem to have a knack for this."

The black girl arched an eyebrow. "You haven't seen me try to cook before. I'd burn water if you let me."

"True story. Ouch!" Terry rubbed the spot where Max had elbowed him in the gut. Mary hid a smile at their antics as she wiped down the counter.

"Well, maybe I can send you home with a few recipes to try. Let me go grab them from my room." She disappeared, heading for the master bedroom. Max checked to make sure the butter had melted completely and started adding apple slices to the lemon juice in the glass bowl while Terry watched.

"Hey, don't I get an apple slice?"

Max sighed, holding one out to him without looking. "Here."

She waited for him to grab it but he didn't quite do what she expected. She expected him to take it like Matt had done, but instead she felt his warm hand close around her wrist and lift the slice to his mouth. Her brown eyes widened in surprise as his lips closed over the fruit, just barely brushing her fingertips. She would have thought it completely innocent had he not been staring at her while he did it, meaning that this little stunt was definitely on purpose. Her mouth went very dry and she seemed to be having trouble focusing on anything other than those soft lips and the look in his eyes that made her stomach twist into a knot.

"Here they are."

Max jumped in surprise, snatching her arm out of Terry's grip and whirling around as Mary returned with a couple slips of paper in her hand. If she had arrived a second earlier, they would have had a lot of explaining to do.

"T-Thanks, Ms. M." Max muttered, stuffing the paper in the pocket of her jeans. Terry of course went back into the den without another word, leaving Max to finish the pie filling with a thousand thoughts rushing through her head—some of which had nothing to do with pie and a lot to do with tasting.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Hm?"

"Your face is all flushed. Are you standing too close to the stove?"

Max's blush deepened. "No, I'm fine. It's just the heat."

_Stupid sexy Terry_.

* * *

Fortunately, Max didn't have the chance to bring up the cosmic weirdness that had been the apple incident because Terry got called into work only a few minutes later. She didn't really mind, either. She needed time to sort out her feelings and she couldn't exactly do that with the subject of her concerned thoughts walking around. The rest of the night went rather smoothly: she helped Matt finish decorating the tree, set up a few lights outside of their apartment, finished both pies with Ms. McGinnis, and had a great dinner of chicken noodle soup. Mary got a call to work an extra shift so she left Max to babysit Matt until Terry came home. Which would be God-knows-when o'clock.

7:02PM. _I'm thinking too hard about this. It's Terry. He was just messing with my head._ Max thought as she handed Matt another silver bulb to place on the tree.

8:03PM. _I mean, he flirts with me all the time. No big deal, right? _Max thought as she stood in front of the microwave, waiting for the pizza to heat up.

9:07PM. _Besides, he just got out of a long-term relationship so he's a little vulnerable. I shouldn't take it personally. _Max thought as she tucked Matt in bed and shut off the light.

10:22PM. _And who am I kidding? I'm not exactly his first choice. He could have any girl he wanted so why would he bother with me?_ Max thought as she yanked off her socks and settled on Terry's bed, switching the mp3 player to the least romantic song she could find—"The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground. (Terry had an awful weakness for bad hiphop.)

11:15PM. _That's right. He'll come home and everything will be back to the way it was. Normal, normal, normal. _Max thought as she yawned and glanced at the clock, wondering how rough the streets were to keep him out so late. She considered making a pot of coffee to fight off the sleepiness since Terry would eventually come back and drive her home, but drowsiness caressed her limbs and convinced her to stay in bed a little longer. Just a little longer.

Max's eyes opened just barely at half-past midnight when she heard rustling somewhere near the foot of the bed, but she was too sleepy to roll over to confirm it. A couple minutes later, the mattress pitched behind her, indicating that Terry had crawled in. She tilted her head backwards enough that her sleep-heavy voice would reach his ears.

"Ter, we have to talk…"

"Shh," he murmured gently. Even with her eyes only half-open, she could tell how bone-weary he was from fighting crooks all night long. She didn't have it in her to make him take her back home.

"Go to sleep." Terry mumbled, lying down behind her. For once, she didn't argue because she felt just as tired. She let her head drop back onto the pillow and closed her eyes, falling asleep wrapped in his scent and warmth from head to toe.

* * *

**A/N**: I hope you're not terribly upset with this chapter's simplicity, but be patient. The story is building, I promise. In the meantime, please review with your thoughts. They are important to me.

Kyoko


	4. Chapter 4

Warm. This morning was very…_warm_.

Max's brain always seemed to awaken in sections. First, her consciousness would unfold and remind her of where she was: someplace warm. Second, her senses kicked in. She could smell some sort of cologne, something sweet with just a touch of spice. The room was silent except for the bare whisper of her breathing. Third, her eyelids regained control enough to uncover her dark brown eyes. She found herself face-to-face with the slumbering Terry.

Part of Max realized this situation was unusual—if only because this normally happened in her bed when Terry was too tired after patrol to make it back to his house—but it was all secondary because he looked really cute asleep. A fond smile tugged at her lips. His face was slack except for his eyebrows, which were slightly furrowed as he dreamt. He looked just like Matt when he slept. His jet-black hair had fallen across his forehead and into his eyes. He needed a haircut soon, she noted absently, tucking a wayward strand behind his ear.

Terry stirred slightly and buried the left side of his face further into the pillow. The comforter slid down a few inches as a result, revealing the rising peak of his shoulders and back. Max's eyes were drawn to the movement—or at least that was the excuse her sleep-muddled mind came up with to explain her staring—and she noticed just how many muscles he'd acquired over the past year. Terry had always been in good shape, but the job was demanding enough that he had bulked up. More than that, though, she noticed the scars—some a faded pink color, some white, all of them noticeable as they were stretched across the skin of his back. There was a particularly nasty on that peeked out from his tank top that hadn't healed yet so the skin was shiny. She glanced down to make sure he was still asleep and pushed up on her hands, using her index finger to lift his shirt a bit. She winced when she noticed several bruises trailing down one shoulder. He'd definitely had a rough night.

"It's not polite to stare, you know."

Max jumped and dropped her arm immediately as Terry's sleepy voice filled her ears all of the sudden. He stared at her with a questioning but amused expression, not seeming annoyed or surprised at her behavior. The boy was just plain unflappable sometimes.

"Sorry," she mumbled, hoping he couldn't tell she had started to blush. "I didn't know they were that bad."

Terry shrugged, stifling a yawn. "You get used to 'em."

Max frowned. "I don't know about that. What happened?"

He sat up and rolled one shoulder, flinching as it popped audibly. "Got tossed into a wall by this alligator splicer claiming to be the son of Killer Croc. Got the animal wrong and everything."

She felt the ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Doesn't anybody read any more?"

"Guess not."

"What about this one?" She pointed to the curved scar below his left armpit. He glanced downward, thinking about it.

"What? You don't remember that one? You patched me up. It was the bank robbery last week with that guy who had the hook."

Max nodded. "Oh, right. The one who looked like he came out of a bad scary movie. Geez, all of these incidents are starting to blend together. Keep it up and you're gonna look like Mr. Zsasz."

Terry winced, resisting the urge to shudder. "I hope I never get that bad. So far it's just my back, there aren't that many on the front."

"Don't be so sure." Without thinking, she tugged the hem of his shirt higher and pointed to the purplish bruise on his hip peeking up from his pajama pants. He frowned and examined it as well, displeased.

"Better wear a sweater today. If Mom sees this, she'll freak," he lamented. It took Max a few seconds to notice she still had his shirttail in her hand and was far too interested in the curve of his hip. She tried to rationalize it by her interest in medical things but the more primitive part of her brain wanted to touch it just to see if his skin was as soft as it looked even though she knew for a fact that it was. She'd taken care of him, bruised and bloodied, and she _knew_ how soft it was.

She regained control over her embarrassing teenage-boy-hungry thoughts and let go just as he opened his mouth to say something. "Last night, you said we had to talk. What's wrong?"

Max stared at him, feeling as if he had whacked her between the eyes. There was no way in Hell she could talk to him about the mixed signals he'd been sending when he was this sleep-deprived and pretty. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and cleared her throat, scratching the back of her head and avoiding eye contact.

"I, uh, can't remember. It probably wasn't important."

He arched an eyebrow at her, his voice full to the brim with disbelief. "Uh-huh."

She glared at him. "What?"

Terry smirked. "You're a terrible liar, you know."

Max crossed her arms. "Some people would consider that a good quality, McGinnis. Speaking of which, you never did explain why you and Dana broke up."

The smile vanished, replaced with a guarded look. She hated it when he did that. "It's not important."

Max let out a frustrated sigh, moving to get off the bed. "Fine. Whatever."

She started to stand up but he caught her wrist, tugging her back towards him. Her heart thundered in her chest at the sudden contact and the serious look that had crept into those baby blues.

"Max—"

There was a knock at the door. "Ter, honey, are you up?"

Max closed her eyes for a second. His mother had the worst timing. Terry heaved a sigh and let go of her arm, standing up and going to the door.

"Yeah, Mom, what's up?"

"You should go ahead and get dressed. We're leaving in half an hour."

"Alright."

"Where's Max? Did you take her home?"

The teenager's cheeks colored considerably. "Ah, no. She crashed in here. I'll take her home so she can get changed."

Surprise stole across his mother's face, though it was later replaced with a decidedly sly expression. "Okay. I'll go get your brother ready."

He shut the door and silently prayed Max hadn't seen the look on his mother's face. When he turned around, she had already gotten out of bed and was pulling her socks and shoes back on. He felt like he needed to say something but he had no idea where to start. She didn't wait for him.

"I'll make us some coffee while you get dressed." She slid past him and out of the door. He stood there for a moment before palming his forehead and collapsing backwards on the bed with a groan.

"Great job, McGinnis."

* * *

_"Spunky looks good in her bright red wig_

_Eating chocolate chip mint ice cream_

_A cat named Lola with a violent past_

_Is balled up asleep 'cross her knees_

_And it's a free for all, free for all, free for all_

_It's a free for all, you and me_

_One day the world will be ready for you_

_And wonder how they didn't see…"_

_The soft sounds of Eels, an old but great band, serenaded her quiet evening. She sat in bed wearing her distinct pajamas with her cat in her lap reading through The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. After a moment, she reached over to the nightstand and took a deep swig from a glass of eggnog before returning to the novel. _

_Just as she started to turn the page, her phone rang. She groaned, tossing the book aside. For most of the day, she had been returning chain text messages wishing her a Merry Christmas and trying her best not to Grinch up the place, but it wasn't really working. On the surface, she pretended not to even notice the holiday but she knew deep down it bothered her. It bothered her that her mother had only left a twenty-credit card on the table for dinner telling her to 'order a pizza or something', it bothered her that her father merely sent a text message and couldn't be bothered to call his own daughter, and it bothered her that her older sister had ditched her to go ice skating with friends and didn't invite her along. She'd even had to hide it all from her best friend, who would be highly offended and sympathetic to her plight if only she asked. But Max didn't want sympathy. She wanted peace. Peace on Earth and good will towards me. Like hell._

_She scooped up the phone with a frown, expecting another annoying Christmas text, but instead she found a message from Terry._

Did you open your Christmas present?

-T

_Max couldn't hide a smirk, her thumbs going to work on the keys._

Yes. I must say I am impressed. You've been doing detective work, haven't you?

-M

Well, I don't like to brag, but I am the goddamn Batman.

-T

_She laughed, causing her cat to open one eye lazily at the sudden noise. _

I haven't forgotten.

-M

Good. You heading to Chelsea's Christmas party later?

-T

No, it's not my scene. You know they all get sloppy-drunk by the end of it and I don't want to drive anyone puking up eggnog home.

-M

Well, I was only gonna go if you were going so that's fine. Got to pay the old man a visit anyway.

-T

_Her eyebrows perked upward at this news. _Did you get him a present too? -M

Maybe. :D

-T

_She rolled her eyes. _Damn tease. -M

Guilty as charged. In any case, happy holidays Ms. Gibson. I'll see you in the New Year.

-T

And you as well, Mr. McGinnis.

-M

_With that, she set the phone back down and took another sip of her eggnog. A couple drops spilled on her shirt and she made a small sound of dismay. _

"_Great job, Gibson. Mess up your Christmas gift from Terry the first day you're wearing it," she groused, brushing off the liquid as best as she could. Her cat mewled in annoyance and hopped out of her lap, curling up on the foot of the bed. She shouldn't have cared that much about the pajamas. They weren't expensive or anything. He'd probably gotten them at Wal-mart. But…they were pretty special, if only because they were her only real Christmas present. Terry had a knack for giving her just what she needed without a second thought. She wanted to thank him for it, but he'd find a way to tease her about it. She sort of loved and hated that about him._

_Then Max realized she'd been thinking about Terry for an entire five minutes so she stubbornly picked up her book and kept reading._

"_Bah, humbug."_

_Her cat merely glanced at her and meowed. She shrugged._

"_I know, but I had to say it."_

_

* * *

_**A/N: **Sorry if this chapter was a little disappointing, but I hope the first part made up for the lackluster second part. Also, you should notice a little shout out to **DJRabidPunk's **awesome story _Sleep _just because the fic summary cracked me up. Kudos, my friend.

Honestly, this story just sort of evolves on its own, I am only holding the brush. Er, the pen. Whatever. Still, thanks for sticking by me and keep it up with all the reviews. The more reviews, the more I am motivated to finish it. So please, motivate me.

Btw, the song in Max's flashback is "Spunky" by Eels. Check it out if you get the chance.

Kyoko


	5. Chapter 5

"How's it going over there? Have you spiked your own eggnog yet?"

Max rolled her eyes as she balanced her cell phone on her left shoulder while she tugged the black jeans over her slim hips.

"No. I'm going out."

"Out? Out where?" Her sister's voice managed to sound both shocked and suspicious. Max felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips but resisted it.

"With Terry's family. He didn't say where we going, though."

"With Terry, eh? Isn't that cozy?" And now it was filled to the brim with teasing. Typical Melissa, misinterpreting everything on a whim.

"Not really. We're just friends."

"Uh-huh."

Max rolled her eyes a second time, lacing up her black boots with fur trim that Melissa had bought her a couple years ago. Of the two of them, her older sister had better fashion sense. Max was more focused on utility than fashion, thus explaining her love affair with jeans and Chucks.

"How's it going with Brandon's family?"

"The same as always," her sister sighed. "Been helping his mom cook the food, his little brothers decorate the tree, and his aunt pick the right booze for the eggnog."

Max snorted. "Careful. The dry cleaners aren't very happy if you bring in puke-covered clothing this time of year."

"I'll try my best. Well, I've got to go. Make sure you give Mom a call later."

"I will."

"Good. Now go enjoy being out with your little boyfriend."

"He's not my—" Melissa hung up before she could get the last word out. Max heaved a sigh, tossing the phone on the bed. Melissa was not a subtle girl. Good thing Terry hadn't been around to hear their conversation. Max instead focused her attention on the clothing she had laid on out on the bed because she seemed to be having one of those ridiculous girly moments. The black sweater on the right was comfortable, loose-fitting, and kept her very warm. The red sweater on the left was alluring, close-fitting, but wasn't as warm as the other one. Normally, she wouldn't have given it a second thought but everything about the past day made her start to realize that the dynamic between her and Terry was…_changing_. Into what, she had no earthly idea. She couldn't talk to Melissa about it because all she would do is make jokes. She couldn't talk to Dana about it because that was her ex-boyfriend and it would be incredibly tasteless to discuss things with her. The person she normally went to advice to about these things was Terry and boy, was that **not** an option.

In the end, she palmed her forehead in resignation. "What the hell am I doing?"

* * *

"What the hell am I doing?"

Terry muttered, running a hand through his tousled black hair as he sat on Max's overstuffed green couch, glancing furtively at her closed bedroom door. Her cat, Streaks, was curled up at the other end watching him with one eye, seeming amused by his distraught expression. Figures. If only the cat could tell him what was going on in the girl's head right now. He'd have given his left arm to know.

Further agonizing was interrupted by his phone ringing. He fumbled for it in his pocket, answering it without looking.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to come in tonight around seven o'clock for patrol. The crime rate goes up during the holidays, after all." Bruce said, not bothering with the pleasantries. He rarely did at all but especially not around the holidays.

"Got it." Terry paused, biting his bottom lip for a moment.

"Hey, Bruce? Can I ask you something?"

"What?" The old man sounded insanely suspicious within the span of a few seconds. Terry cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head.

"It's about Max."

"What now? Don't tell me she's been needling you about being your partner again?"

Terry choked on a laugh. "Not exactly. It's just…have you ever, y'know, been interested in someone you're friends with?"

"I didn't have many friends back in my day."

Terry hung his head in defeat. "Figures."

He assumed the old man would just hang up but after another pause, he spoke again. "It happened once, a long time ago. We worked together on the same team and things got more complicated the more time we spent with each other."

"And?"

"And," Bruce went on, sounding slightly irritated. "Dating within the team always leads to disaster. We both knew that."

Terry arched an eyebrow. "But you still did it anyway."

"…yes. And you know how the rest of the story goes, don't you?"

Terry sighed. "Yeah, I do. Thanks anyway."

"She's a smart girl, McGinnis. Don't underestimate that."

"I won't." The old man hung up and Terry stuffed his phone back in his pocket just as Max's door opened. He could hear the music she'd been playing spilling into the room as well—nothing Christmas related because Max wasn't much for the holidays. Not that it mattered because Terry couldn't seem to notice anything other than the scarlet sweater she wore and how it clung to her curves in a way that made him feel as if he'd downed an entire gallon of hot chocolate all at once.

_"Whoah, whoah, whoah, boy you're gonna win_

_Said yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you're under my skin_

_I've got butterflies within_

_Oh, I think I like you!"_

"Ter?"

Terry blinked. "Huh?"

Max arched an eyebrow, scooping up her purse from the coffee table and giving Streaks one quick petting before standing up straight. "Ready?"

"Not hardly," the boy muttered to himself before getting off the couch, annoyed that one simple article of clothing had reduced him to a gawking twelve-year-old boy. He held the front door open for her as they left, settling himself back into his best friend role to unjangle his nerves.

"You talked to your family yet?" He asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they strolled towards the stairs.

"Yeah. Melissa's helping the family cook. Mom's probably still on the road, but I'll call her later. What about the old guy?"

"Ah, I'm sure he's sitting at home trying to figure out how to steal Christmas."

Max chuckled. "I can see it. Though I don't think Ace would appreciate someone tying reindeer horns to his head."

"Trust me, I've seen him in action. He could take down Santa's entire team and still have room for dessert." Terry mused, grinning as he pictured the Great Dane closing in on one very panicked looking Santa Clause with Bruce smirking in the background.

"I'll bet. Where are we going, anyway?"

Terry's grin widened. "You'll see."

Max scowled at him. "You enjoy keeping secrets as much as your mentor, y'know that?"

Terry puffed out his chest a little. "It's a Bat thing, you wouldn't understand."

Max rolled her eyes. "I would if you'd let me."

Terry's grin wilted. "C'mon, Max, it's the holidays. I don't want to get into that argument today."

She stopped on the first step that led to the sidewalk, turning to give him a serious look.

"Why not?"

"Because it's Christmas and we're supposed to be in the Christmas spirit."

"And what's that like?"

He didn't answer. She turned with a question on her lips but he leaned down at that moment and kissed her on the cheek. A blush curled over her cheeks, highlighted by the shocked expression on her face.

"What was that for?"

He smiled brilliantly, pointing upward. She glanced up and noticed that hanging from the arch in the apartment building was a sprig of mistletoe. Terry didn't wait for a response, instead walking down the stairs. She resisted the urge to touch the now warm spot on her cheek and followed him, trying to stave off dual amounts of flattery and embarrassment.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yep."

Max sighed, ambling along with Terry's warm, gloved hands over her eyes, having no idea where he and his family were making her walking towards. Finally, she bumped into something solid that felt like a waist-high concrete barrier and Terry finally let her open her eyes. Her mouth fell open.

Light snow floated down in the morning sun, drawing her attention to where it landed: in a huge ice-skating rink with literally dozens of Gothamites twirling around, holding hands, and laughing. A huge, heavily decorated Christmas tree stood in the middle of the rink, its silver and gold ornaments twinkling in the sunlight. Terry laid his hands on her shoulders, capturing her attention.

"Like it?"

"Terry, this is…amazing. I haven't ice-skated since I was a little girl," Max said, feeling a lump beginning to form in her throat. Terry squeezed her shoulders, guiding her towards the entrance where Matt and Mary had already gone through.

"I figured as much."

After they got through the skate rental line, they picked a spot on the bleachers surrounding the skating arena and laced up their borrowed skates: Max wearing a pair of bright pink ones and Terry with a pair of cobalt blue ones. He had griped about the color but she could tell he was genuinely happy.

"Do you guys really do this every year?" Max asked, setting her right leg down and testing if it fit right. Terry nodded.

"Yeah. I'm not that great at it, but it's still fun. Especially to watch Matt flail around like a twip," he added with a mischievous smile. Max shook her head and stood up, holding her arms out for balance. She wobbled a bit and Terry stood up next to her, trying to hide a smile as she grabbed for the wall, trying not to topple over.

"Got it?"

"Does it look like I got it?" She inquired sarcastically, clutching the barrier and holding on for dear life. Terry tilted his head slightly, observing her shaky legs.

"You look like a dog trying to stand up on its hind legs. On ice."

She glared at him. "Thanks for your input, McGinnis."

"Always here to help. Here, turn around and walk towards the rink. I'll make sure you don't fall."

"I'd better not," she threatened, carefully swiveling so that she was facing the entrance onto the ice. Terry couldn't resist a wicked grin.

"It's not like you don't have a little cushioning back there."

Her mouth fell open. "Wait until we get home. I am pouring hot cider on your in your sleep."

He chuckled good-naturedly. "Not on a first date, hon. Now lift both your feet onto the ice at the same time. Trust me, once you're on it, your balance will be better."

"Whatever you say, Yoda," she muttered, gripping the gate and lowering her feet onto the ice. She expected to instantly fall flat on her already-cold face but instead the blades on her skates gripped the ice, allowing her to take a few cautious steps forward without wobbling. Terry stepped out and skated to her side in such a smooth motion that it made her a little jealous.

"See? Easier than you think."

Max let herself relax a bit, feeling more comfortable. "Alright, Mr. Smug, just help me get going."

"Gladly." He held out his hand, a simple gesture, but Max still felt blood surging into her face as a result. Still, she stuffed down the trembling feeling in her stomach and accepted it. He tugged her gently away from the wall and closer to his side.

"Just pretend you're on roller skates. Your legs will do the rest. It's just muscle memory," he explained, gliding forward. She gave a start as he pulled her along, pushing against the ice. She stumbled a couple times but never fell due to Terry's strong grip, eventually getting used to the movements. They skated around the arena once, waving to Matt and Mary on the opposite side when they spotted them. After she stopped worrying about falling, Max found herself immersed in her environment: the sunlight, the frosty wind, the snow, the cheerful people around her, and the simple comfort of holding Terry's hand. A wistful thought bubbled to the surface of her mind before she could help herself.

_I could get used to this._

_

* * *

**A/N**_: I think this chapter went better than the last one. Let me know if you think it did too by leaving a review, if you don't mind.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and wish you all happy holidays! The next chapter will be coming soon, but don't be afraid to light a fire under my butt by reviewing.

The song used in this chapter is "Sexy Silk" by Jessie J, from the "Easy A" soundtrack. Go see that movie, it's excellent.

Kyoko


	6. Chapter 6

"Max, would you like another muffin?"

The pink-haired teen raised a hand in surrender. "If I have one more bite, I'm going to explode."

Mary McGinnis stifled a giggle. "Well, we wouldn't want that."

"Yeah. This is a new coat, I'd hate to ruin it," Terry interjected, earning himself a slap on the arm from his best friend. The four of them were seated comfortably in the booth of the local Starbucks, warm, dry, and content. They had ice-skated for several hours before heading to a matinee at the movie theater. The coffee shop was also part of McGinnis tradition—Mary always ordered a peppermint bark white chocolate drink, Terry got a pumpkin spice coffee, and Matt stuck with the ever-popular hot cocoa topped with mountains of white fluffy marshmallows. Max considered coffee to be her life's blood so she got a mocha with a healthy amount of whipped cream on top.

Terry glanced at his watch for the third time, Max noted, and let out a small sigh. "I think I should get going. I'll meet you guys at the house in a little while."

Mary smiled, but it seemed a bit sad at the edges. "Alright, honey."

Confused, Max slid out of her seat so Terry could get by, waiting until he'd gone to the front counter to pay for his drink before asking, "Where's he going?"

Mary winced slightly, her brown eyes shifting to Matt and then beckoned Max forward to murmur in her ear. "The graveyard."

Max's eyes widened. "By himself?"

She nodded. "It's important to him."

The pink-haired teen nibbled her bottom lip, her thoughts racing as she watched him paying for his drink. He had already lost his girlfriend before Christmas. Despite the fun they'd been having, she knew a lot of things were weighing on his mind. She shook her head and got up, following him out after thanking Mary for the coffee.

She managed to catch up with him at the car, opening the passenger's side. He blinked at her in surprise when she climbed in, hesitant. "Max…you don't have to come. Stay with my Mom and Matt."

"You need someone with you, Ter."

He sighed, seeming tired. "I'll be alright. I always am."

"No, you're not. You can't take the whole world on your shoulders. Now shut up and start the car." She clicked her seatbelt in place and crossed her arms. He stared at her for a long moment and then slowly got in the car, not saying anything else. She didn't know if he would hate her for being stubborn, but either way she knew she needed to be there.

Evening started to roll in and with it came a light snow, painting any other surfaces of the city a blissful white. She lost track of time as they drove in silence watching dozens of people trudging through the snow together, holding hands, laughing, and tossing occasional snowballs at each other. Maybe that was the elusive holiday spirit she had been missing out on for so long.

At last, the car came to a stop outside of the cemetery plot, dusted over with snow. Wordlessly, she got out and walked around, finding that Terry had stashed a bouquet of white roses in the backseat. They walked through the cold, cheeks flushed from the frosty wind, feet crunching through the thin layer of ice on the grass, until they reached the grave of Warren McGinnis.

He knelt and replaced the dying flowers with the new ones, sweeping a handful of snow off of the headstone before going still and merely staring down at it. Max stood close by, trying to figure out how to comfort him. His face appeared as if he were keeping any pain he felt inside, but she could see through the snow gathering on his eyelashes that his eyes were filled to the brim with sorrow. She knew they had been fighting before he died and that Terry never forgave himself for leaving the night his father was murdered.

She reached out and took his right hand, lacing her fingers with his. He didn't say anything or react except for squeezing her hand slightly. That was all she needed.

"He'd be proud of you, you know." Max whispered, her voice just barely carrying over the wind. Terry smiled faintly.

"I know."

Sometime later, they parked in front of the McGinnis household, but the silence between them was much more comfortable than before. Max unbuckled her seatbelt, tossing a soft glance at her best friend.

"You gonna be okay out there?"

He flashed her a winsome smile. "I always am."

She arched an eyebrow. "Not always. I've patched you up, remember?"

Terry shrugged. "That's why I always am. I've got you to put me back together."

She snorted softly. "What are you, Humpty Dumpty?"

"Only on the really bad nights. Tell Mom not to wait up. Christmas Eve is a gold mine of criminal activity, after all."

"I will. Stay safe, McGinnis."

"Stay perfect, Gibson." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling when she shut the passenger door and watched him drive off into the wintry night. Maybe the sweater was working. Like hell.

The rest of the night was busy enough that she hardly had time to worry about Terry on patrol. She helped Matt make Christmas e-cards for his classmates, cooked most of Christmas dinner with Mary, made a few calls to distant family members up North, wrapped the present she'd gotten for Terry and hid it in the linen closet—the one place he'd never go since he constantly forgot to change his bed sheets—and watched Christmas movies until the call of sleep came upon her. She shuffled off to the bedroom and changed into her pajamas that she'd brought from home, snuggling beneath the sheets that smelled of cologne and Terry.

She had begun drifting off to sleep when her phone rang, shattering the peaceful silence. Groaning, Max groped about the nightstand until she found it, answering in an unearthly growl when she noticed it was nearly one AM.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Max!" Dana chirped, sounding far too cheerful for the time of night. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I was heading to bed, but what's up?"

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see if you wanted to head downtown with the girls. There's this schway dance party Jergen's throwing. We're about to drive past your place if you want us to pick you up."

"Nah, I'm crashing at Terry's tonight."

A pause. "Oh."

Despite her sleepiness, Max found the silence strangely awkward. "Is…something wrong?"

"No, no, it's just…well, you guys spend a lot of time together."

Max frowned. "We're friends."

"I know, but…" Dana sighed. "Don't you find it weird that he never had time for me but he always had time for you?"

"Dana, it's not like that. He really does try to be with you but he has a lot of responsibilities to take care of on his own."

"I'm not sure I believe that any more than you do, Max."

She fell into a shocked silence, surprised that Dana had been so blunt with her. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe the reason we broke up is that he doesn't need me any more since he has you."

"Dana—"

"I gotta go, Max. See you around." The phone went dead. Max stared at it in disbelief for a handful of seconds. She thought about pinching herself just to make sure that hadn't been a dream. Surely Dana hadn't accused her of being the reason the two of them broke up. It was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. And totally untrue.

Wasn't it?

She collapsed on the bed face up, palming her forehead in hopes that it would keep her brain from exploding from panicked thoughts. She closed her eyes for a long moment, trying to clear her head, and when she opened them again, she found herself staring up at the very subject of her worries.

"Jesus, Ter!" Max yelped, sitting up straight. He flashed her a half-hearted smirk.

"Sorry. You're kinda cute when you're asleep."

"I wasn't asleep, Edward Cullen." She shot back, tossing back the comforter. Terry arched an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Never mind. What is it?"

"If you wouldn't mind…" He turned around and she gasped, finding a large gash across his left shoulder. The upper half suit had been crumpled around his waist with drops of scarlet marring the black material.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" She hissed, scurrying over to the drawer where he'd hidden a First Aid kit for such unfortunate occasions. Terry sat on the bed, shrugging and wincing.

"You could use the rest."

"And you could use some common sense," she spat, grabbing a handful of gauze and pressing it to the wound. He ground his teeth, holding in a pained groan.

"Easy, easy!"

"Easy, my ass. How did this even happen?"

Terry heaved a sigh. "Hook-Hand Dude came back for seconds. But in my defense, I threw his hook in the river so maybe now the only person who can use it is Jason Vorhees."

She rolled her eyes, searching through the kit for rubbing alcohol. "He lives in a lake, not a river. And how do you know who Jason is and not the Grinch?"

"Dana likes scary movies."

Max fought the urge to frown, instead concentrating on the wound, which had finally begun to clot. She tossed away the soiled gauze and poured the alcohol over the gash, ignoring Terry's cringing and little mutters of "ow, ow, ow" every few seconds. When she was finished, she began applying the bandage while Terry attempted to fill the silence.

"I saw most of the cooking's done. What did you make?"

"The potato salad."

"Mm. First time ever making it?"

"Yeah."

"Easier or harder than you thought?"

She thought about it. "Easier. Your Mom's a good cook."

Terry smirked. "Yeah. I always gain weight around the holidays because of her."

Max felt a smile twisting at the edge of her lips. "Like you need an excuse."

"Ow. That was the sound of my ego getting kicked in the face."

"You poor baby," she replied sarcastically, closing the kit after she finished. Terry rolled his shoulder, glancing backwards at her.

"What's the prognosis?"

"You'll survive." She rose and placed the kit back in the drawer, tossing the bloody gauze in the trash. Terry smiled.

"What would I do without you?"

"Bleed to death," she answered flatly, crawling back underneath the covers and settling facedown on the pillow. After a moment, she felt the mattress shift and the rustling of cloth, meaning he was undressing. A guilty feeling crept up her chest when she found herself resisting the urge to sneak a peek. Hell, she'd earned it for what she'd put up with for the last few days.

Quietly, she shifted her head the tiniest bit and opened one eye. She was treated to the sight of the rippling muscles of his stomach brought to life by the silver moonlight as he pulled the upper part of the suit off. How many times had she touched his chest when she applied bandages and salve? Yet she never really noticed how attractive she found him at odd moments, like when he laughed, or when he fell asleep on the couch after a long day. Did he think the same thing about her? Was she accidentally beautiful to him?

She closed her eye and tried not to sigh too loudly. This boy was driving her insane, moment by infuriating moment. She needed to get away from him. One more day. One more day before they went back to their normal best friend routine. She could make it, right?

Terry crawled in behind her and kissed her shoulder: one small, affectionate touch that sent goosebumps all down her spine. "Thanks, Max."

She had to swallow past the lump in her throat to answer. "Night, Ter."

Tomorrow was going to be the longest day ever.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. It's been a busy couple of weeks. I think the next chapter might be the last so make sure to leave plenty of reviews. Who knows? They might inspire me to make it a little longer. In any case, thanks for the support!

Kyoko


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A brief note: this is indeed the final chapter. But fret not because I get the feeling you guys will enjoy it. Thoroughly. If you know what I mean. **

Max's morning began very unceremoniously.

Mostly because it began at six o'clock in the morning.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! _The pink-haired teen groaned and rolled over, her voice a husky, incoherent growl.

"Five more minutes, Melissa!"

"C'mon, get up! Get up, get up, it's Christmas!" Matthew McGinnis hollered through the door, scampering off down the hallway to wake up his mother as well. Max had barely understood what he said, having burrowed one side of her face against the nearest thing beneath the covers—which happened to be Terry's chest. Part of her seemed to realize this fact, but she was too sleepy to care.

As if on cue, the teenage boy stirred, letting loose a deep and equally sleepy growl that indicated he too had been awakened.

"Does he always do this?" Max grumbled, stubbornly staying put in her new spot.

"Yes," Terry groused, not moving either. "When we get out there, I'm gonna give him a swirly he'll never forget."

She snorted, choking on a laugh. "I'll take pictures."

He lifted the comforter, staring down at her with an amused look. "Sleep well?"

She closed her eyes, sighing. "Would have slept better if you'd stop kicking me in your sleep."

He scowled. "I don't kick in my sleep."

Max propped her chin on his ribcage, arching an eyebrow. "Yeah, you do. Because you fight bad guys even in your sleep."

A small blush crawled over his cheeks. "Oh. Then I guess I owe you an apology."

"You owe my knees an apology," the girl mused. He flashed her a quick grin and rolled over suddenly, hovering above her on his hands. He rolled up the hem of her pajama pants and stared down at her kneecaps with a completely serious expression.

"I'm very sorry. Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me?"

Max collapsed into laughter, no longer caring about being up so early considering the amount of entertainment she was now getting. "You are a sick man, McGinnis."

He shrugged. "Hey, you told me to apologize."

"Since when do you listen to me?"

"When it allows me the opportunity to get underneath your clothes." The grin turned very sly and she rolled her eyes, stretching her back for a moment and suppressing a yawn.

"Sometimes I think you're as delusional as your ex-girlfriend."

Terry tilted his head slightly. "What does that mean?"

Max waved her hand dismissively. "She called last night and said she thinks the reason you two broke up was because of me. As if there's any truth to that."

She expected him to laugh it off with something clever, but instead he paused for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was low.

"What if there is?"

Her brown eyes widened in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

She nearly jumped when he touched her knees, pushing her legs down, and crawled above her until they were face-to-face. Her pulse skyrocketed as he knelt above her, his expression somewhere between solemn and desirous. He planted his hands on either side of her waist, leaning in and erasing several important inches between them.

"You know what I'm talking about," Terry replied softly. She swallowed hard, trying not to let her eyes slide to his muscular body damn near close enough to touch.

"I'm not sure I do."

"Max. You're way smarter than you give yourself credit for. You know exactly what I'm getting at. I know you've been avoiding talking about it because it makes you nervous."

_Nervous,_ her brain laughed. _Not even close. More like induces a total mental shutdown._ She ignored her cynical inner voice and tried to figure how to get herself out of her current position and into another one. Er, not that kind of position.

"Look, I think we've just been spending too much time around each other and you're mistaken it for chemistry. We're just friends—" She tried to explain, but he cut her off.

"We are _not_ just friends, Max. I know you've noticed how things have changed. You can't keep pretending not to know how I feel about you."

Her brow furrowed. "How do you feel about me?"

Terry reached down and gripped her right wrist, lifting her hand to his mouth. He kissed her palm gently, pale blue eyes locked on her shocked face. A wave of warmth flooded down her arm and all through her body. His lips parted to say more but then there was a knock at the door. Again.

"Terry, Max, it's time to get breakfast started!" Mary called. Max licked her lips and tried to recover her voice, not glancing away from Terry for even a moment.

"In a minute, Ms. McGinnis."

* * *

"What's taking them so long?" Matt wondered aloud as the two sat down at the table, having finished an entire stack of pancakes, a casserole dish full of scrambled eggs, and a pan full of bacon by their lonesome. Mary glanced furtively at the still-closed door, resisting the urge to smile.

"They must have gotten…preoccupied."

* * *

"I am so going to Hell," Max groaned, though the statement was muffled against Terry's lips since she was stretched on top of him with her hands balanced on his shoulders. He smirked, running his fingers up the back of her tank top and enjoying the little shudder that went down her spine as a result.

"Why's that?"

"Well," she mumbled in between frantic, heated kisses. "It's Christmas morning, your family is waiting in the kitchen for us, and we're making out like a couple of horny middle schoolers."

"I could see how that would make you feel bad," he replied in a thoughtful voice as he cheerfully yanked her shirt off and slid his palm against her flawless, flat stomach.

"We should probably get out there. Y'know, in five minutes or so."

She nodded too many times, trying to clear her head but damn the boy could kiss. "Five minutes. Right."

He rolled them over suddenly, grinning at the alarmed expression that flooded across her face at being beneath him again. "Let's see how far we can get in five minutes."

"…so going to Hell."

* * *

Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, Terry and Max emerged from the bedroom. Mary noticed that Max's legs seemed a bit wobbly but said nothing about it, welcoming them to the table.

"Just in time. I was worried the food would get cold before you two showed up."

"Sorry, we just got to talking and you know how we are," Terry explained smoothly, selecting a couple strips of bacon while Max piled on the pancakes and opened the syrup bottle.

"Yes, well. I was starting to think you'd already eaten."

Max accidentally squirted syrup halfway across the table. Terry bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Matt burst into giggles, although for a completely different reason. She muttered an apology, getting up to grab a dishcloth to clean the table. The remainder of breakfast was largely uneventful and they cleaned up afterwards, leaving Terry and Max to whisper to each other at the sink while his mother ushered Matt off to start organizing the Christmas presents.

"Do you think she knows?" Max asked, chewing on her bottom lip. Terry shook his head.

"Relax, she doesn't know. How could she possibly know?"

Max shot him a sarcastic glare. "One, she's your mother and two, you're about as subtle as a tank that's been lit on fire."

He assumed a haughty look. "Oh, _I'm_ not subtle? You're the one who doused the table in maple syrup, Miss Gibson. I wonder where your mind went during that comment."

She avoided his teasing gaze, instead focusing on rinsing the dishes he was washing. "No idea what you're talking about. My hand slipped."

"So did mine." He ducked as she swung her sudsy fist at his head, chuckling.

"I'm kidding. Besides, even if she did know, it wouldn't be a big deal anyway. She's crazy about you."

She blinked up at him. "Really?"

He smiled, letting the amusement drain out of his voice and transform into warmth. "Really."

He shut off the faucet and shook the water from his hands, beckoning her. "C'mon. It's time for your first McGinnis Christmas."

When they walked into the den, Matt was seated in the midst of a pile of presents, making Max giggle because she could only see the top of his tousled black hair. Mary sat in the loveseat, watching patiently as the two of them sat down on the couch.

"Now can I open them?" The eight year old pleaded. Mary waved a hand in admission and he grabbed the first one, tearing off the wrapping paper with glee. Terry shook his head and got up, fetching the rest of the presents from underneath the tree. He handed five wrapped boxes to his mother, sorted out three for himself, and hefted the biggest box over to where Max was sitting. She blinked rapidly, confused.

"You want me to help you open it?"

"No. It's for you."

Her jaw dropped. "L-Look at the size of this thing! What on Earth did you get me?"

Terry grinned mysteriously. "Open it and see."

Casting him one last suspicious look, she carefully pulled off the green wrapping paper and priedthe lid of the box open, going silent.

"Where…where did you get this? It's so…_cute_." She reached inside and pulled out a life-sized stuffed Hello Kitty—her one and only guilty pleasure.

"I was in this retro shop last week getting something for Mr. Wayne and that's when I saw it. Now you have something to match your PJs."

"I hate you," she moaned, hugging its incredibly soft furry stomach. "Now Melissa's gonna find out and she'll never let me live it down."

Terry shrugged. "Worth it."

"Here, open this one next," Mary suggested, handing Max a slender rectangular box. "It's from all of us."

"You didn't have to get me anything," the girl started, but Mary waved the comment away.

"Nonsense. You're practically one of us. Open it."

Carefully, Max peeled off the wrapping paper and found a white box containing a ceramic angel, painted red and green with the words, "Merry Christmas" across the angel's sash in gold.

"It's one of the first ornaments Terry and I made when he was little. He was pretty good with a brush for a five year old." She said, smiling when she noticed the slightly embarrassed look on Terry's face. Max rose from her seat and hugged her, her voice soft and meaningful.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"No problem at all, dear." She patted the girl's back and Max went back to her seat just as Terry got to the present she'd left for him. He tilted his head slightly.

"A picture frame?"

"A _digital_ picture frame," Max corrected, flipping it over in his hands so he could see the controls. "I noticed all the photos you have of your Dad in your room and thought you might want to scan them all and put them in here. That way if any of the originals get damaged, you'll always have them to remember him by."

He smiled and it warmed her all the way to her toes. "Thanks, Max. Really. It's perfect."

"Not as perfect as Space Ninja Pirate Dinosaurs IV!" Matt exclaimed, plucking the video game from the wrapping paper. He flung himself into his brother's arms, gleeful.

"How did you know I wanted this one?"

Terry ruffled his brother's hair, chuckling. "Oh, I have my ways. Why don't you go get it started in your room and I'll catch up."

"Schway!" Matt raced off down the hallway. Mary arched an eyebrow at Terry, who rolled his eyes.

"It's rated E for Everyone, Mom."

"Yes, well, everyone isn't into outer space ninjas and pirate dinosaurs," she replied in a mild voice, rising to retrieve the scattered bits of wrapping paper. Max helped her gather the pieces up, tossing them in a garbage bag they'd gotten specifically for this reason. Terry glanced at his watch before catching Max's attention.

"Hey, you want to come with me to make a quick stop?"

"Yeah, sure. Where are we going?"

He only smiled. "You'll see."

* * *

The windows were all blocked out with curtains and there was a good, strong fire going. He had allowed the Great Dane the luxury of a hambone as his Christmas gift, but went no further to recognize the current holiday. He sat in his chair in front of the mantel, sipping his tea and barring all thoughts of the date from his mind.

_DING-DONG._

"Hrm," Bruce grunted, forcing himself out of his chair with the help of his cane. "Figures. You'd think after getting chased down the driveway by a Great Dane people would stop showing up for caroling."

He hobbled over to the door and yanked it open with his most fearsome death glare only to find Terry and Max standing there with identical smirks. He softened his expression only slightly.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm guessing you weren't expecting us," Terry mused. Bruce glared.

"No. Usually it's the carolers. Stubborn bunch."

Begrudgingly, he stepped aside and let them in, noticing that Terry was carrying something large and wrapped in white linen that made him suspicious. Ace came bounding in from the den, barking happily as he recognized the duo. Max had visited the Manor a couple of times—much to Wayne's annoyance—and so he'd gotten used to her. She knelt to pet the dog, cooing softly as if he were a harmless poodle while the dog contently licked all the snow off her coat, wagging his tail.

Bruce went back into the den, not bothering with any more pleasantries. "What's the occasion?"

Terry sighed, setting the unidentified item down on the carpet. "Like you don't already know."

Bruce resisted the urge to grunt again. "I've told you before I don't want any presents."

"And I've told you before that I don't care," Terry answered with a grin. "Besides, I got the feeling you'd actually like this one."

He undid a couple of pieces of twine and pulled the linen off, revealing a large, beautifully decorated cherrywood frame. Bruce fell silent, his mind slowly putting together what it was for, which drew his eyes to the space above his fireplace where the portrait of his parents hung.

"I noticed the frame was wearing out and I thought you'd like a new one."

For a moment, the former Dark Knight had nothing to say. He examined the young man before him, trying to quantify the feeling growing in his chest. Gratitude, he thought. He hadn't felt in it a very long time. Though he wasn't exactly about to just thank the kid. Didn't want him to get the wrong impression.

"Leave it by the window. I'll have someone put it up tomorrow morning," The old man said, casually sipping his tea. Terry's face split into a grin.

"You're welcome, old man."

"Hrm."

"One big happy Bat-family," Max teased as Bruce brushed past, patting his leg to call Ace to his side. Bruce glanced at her, though not unkindly.

"Don't you two have somewhere to be?"

Max opened her mouth to reply, but then she heard the sound of a car horn beeping twice. She instead smiled and walked towards the window, pointing to the driveway.

"Apparently, so do you."

A moment later, the front door opened, spilling cold and a few flurries of snow in, and with it a beautiful brunette woman in a lavender overcoat. She shut the door, noticing Terry and Max with an open smile.

"Hi. Didn't know you already had company."

"Not my idea," Bruce grumbled. The woman's smile widened.

"As if it ever is. Hello, Terry. I see you're still putting up with him."

Terry smirked. "For now, anyway."

The woman giggled. "Of course. And you must be…Max, right?"

Max extended her hand, perplexed that this stunning woman knew her name. "Yeah, that's me. And you are…?"

"A friend. When Bruce lets me be, anyway," She added, cutting her blue eyes to Bruce, who merely scowled and looked away. Terry took Max by the shoulders and ushered her towards the door.

"Well, I'm sure you two have catching up to do so we'll see you around. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you as well." With that, they went back outside into the snow. Max tugged on Terry's sleeve, pointing to the door.

"Who was that? I feel like I've seen her somewhere before, but I don't remember."

Terry bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. "Well, she is pretty wonderful."

"Pretty wonderful? What are talking about, Ter—" Max stopped dead in mid-sentence, her jaw dropping as she put the pieces together.

"Terry…tell me that wasn't Wonder Woman."

"The one and only."

Max palmed her forehead, feeling slightly dizzy. "I just met Wonder Woman. _I just met Wonder Woman._"

Terry tried to suppress several more chuckles. "Yes, you did."

"This is officially the best Christmas of my life."

Terry adopted an offended expression, turning to face her. "Oh, so not when I took you ice skating and gave you a foot massage and bought you a gigantic stuffed kitten? This is what made your Christmas the best Christmas ever?"

Max smiled suddenly. "Nope."

"Well then, what did?"

She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him, slowly, one hand cradling his cheek. He became lost in it, forgetting about the cold and the snow and the ice and anything else in the world. When she let go, he glanced upward, expecting to see mistletoe, but there was nothing there. He couldn't have smiled any harder if he wanted to.

"Merry Christmas, Terry."

"Merry Christmas, Max."

FIN

**A/N: And that's the end. I hope you enjoyed their little romp. I am eternally grateful for all the reviews and kind words I've gotten. I do admit that Max is a bit OOC in this chapter, but it was only for the sake of humor. Thanks again for all the support! **

**Kyoko**

**P.S. Mary TOTALLY knows. Just in case you were wondering. And if you want to know just what Terry and Max were doing in his room...use your imagination. :D  
**


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